


Take Care

by speedgriffon



Series: Fallout 4: Madelyn Hardy Fics [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Game Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Present Tense, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:57:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speedgriffon/pseuds/speedgriffon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danse worries about Madelyn before and after her first trip to the Institute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Care

**Author's Note:**

> @transfigurations12 prompted me a while ago now for Mads’ reaction upon the first time finding the Institute, including how Danse would help her through the obvious emotional mission. This angsty, comfort fluff thing happened.
> 
> Notes: I tried a little something different with my writing style? I think? The biggest and most obvious difference in this is the present tense. It just sort of happened.

Danse hates waiting. On the outside, to any one of his fellow soldiers he appears patient but it is all an act, an example for others to follow. No, he isn’t very patient _at all_. Especially when it deals with something as serious as the Institute. The Vault Dweller— _Madelyn_ —discovered a way into the secret organization and came to the Brotherhood with the information to seek a way inside. Danse understands her underlying reasons for wanting to reach the Institute—a son she’s spoken briefly about that the rogue scientists may have kidnapped—but she still seems determined to work for the Brotherhood cause. At least for now.

For all the time he’s been spending with her as her companion in the last month since she first came to the Prydwen, Madelyn is still an enigma. Danse values her skills as a soldier; she’s a fairly good shot and is _somewhat_ tactful on the battlefield. But he also appreciates her a decent human being. He hadn’t been travelling with Madelyn long before he noted that she saw the good in _everybody_. Sometimes it irks Danse to know she cares about undesirable people like her ghoul and mercenary companions but he supposes anybody is lucky to have her friendship.

Danse wonders if it is that friendship that has him feeling less patient than usual. He hasn’t called anyone his friend since—it has been a long time—and Madelyn knows this. He watched her relay to the Institute alone and it was _one_ thing but to be left behind was another. Danse is too used to following her, used to watching her back and Madelyn watching his. There is something _missing_ when she is gone and Danse can’t place it. He isn’t sure if he wants to.

“This is taking too long.” Elder Maxon paces a few feet away from him near the row of computers where Proctor Ingram is standing. “Who is to say she hasn’t been captured or been brainwashed by those Institute bastards?”

Danse understands his frustration, but doesn’t appreciate it. “Have a little more faith in our Knight, Arthur.”

Maxon shoots him a warning glare but says nothing. The Elder continues his pacing and it does nothing but make Danse more anxious than before. Another hour passes before the large teleporter sparks alive with energy, stray beams of electricity shooting at the concrete near Danse’s feet. He approaches the platform with Maxon in anticipation and for an unknown reason his heart begins to race. The light is blinding—worse than lightning—but when it clears Madelyn is standing on the relay platform. Immediately Danse can sense something is wrong.

“Knight Hardy.” Maxon wastes no time as she steps down. Her movements are slow and shaky and Danse wonders if she is injured. She doesn’t lift her gaze to him, to either of them as she brushes past the Elder. “Knight! Report on what just happened.”

“You’ll get your report when I’m ready—” Madelyn mumbles and Danse is taken back until he steps closer and she lifts her chin up just enough. He catches the first glimpse of tears forming in her eyes before her hands are covering her face.

“Excuse me?” Maxon is shocked but it subsides quickly as Madelyn suddenly lets out a choked sob, her steps faltering and body curling inwards.

It is out of instinct that Danse reaches for her, catches her in his arms before she can crumble to the ground as her tears overwhelm her. He has no idea what is wrong but knows now is not the time for mission reports. He has never seen Madelyn cry and wants to give her the privacy she deserves immediately. He glances over his shoulder at Maxon to see the younger man grimacing, arms crossed and impatient as ever. His glare reminds Danse that the Elder isn’t pleased by the lack of decorum being displayed between _Knight_ and _Paladin_. For once, Danse does not care.

As soon as they board the Prydwen, Danse escorts Madelyn to the most private place he can think of—his quarters. She quietly thanks him but does not lift her gaze to his and he feels his chest tighten at not being able to see the light of her eyes. It seems silly in comparison for whatever she is feeling and after an awkward stretch of silence, he leaves. He busies himself for hours with fixing his power armor on the lower deck but as the night drags on can feel Ingram staring at him as he fiddles with the leg stabilizers. It only takes a handful of suggestive and disappointing sighs from the Proctor for Danse to leave with a groan, knowing she wants him to check up on Madelyn.

Danse knocks and feels strange doing so on his _own_ door but within moments a small voice tells him it is okay to enter. Madelyn is sitting in his bed, hugging one of the pillows to her chest. She’s already changed out of whatever gear she wore to the Institute and is back in one of her casual dresses. Her duffle bag of belongings rest on the ground at the foot of the bed and her Pip-Boy is on the nightstand. Danse almost smiles at how she’s made herself _at home_ so quickly.

“I’m sorry for…invading your personal quarters with this _nonsense_.”

Madelyn breaks the silence first. Danse isn’t used to hearing her sound so defeated. He misses her smile and lighthearted banter and wants to know why her usual mood has yet to return. Maxon is still demanding a report on what happened when she infiltrated the Institute and Danse wants to as well, but only if Madelyn is ready.

She anxiously glances at him when he doesn’t respond and shifts to get up. “I—I’ll leave if you wanted to sleep.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Danse answers, taking a quick step towards the bed. Madelyn is surprised by his quick refusal. “Not yet, at least. Have you rested? Do you feel any better?”

She hesitantly leans back into the bed, resting against the metal-framed headboard but her frown is persistent. “No—not really. To both questions.”

Madelyn sighs and her eyes fall away from him and to the pillow in her arms as she hugs it tight to her chest. Danse isn’t sure if him being there is right but since she has yet to shoo him from the room he moves closer to where she is. He sits on the edge of the mattress away from her to give her space and feels _some_ tension leave his body when she regards him with a tiny smile.

“Elder Maxon’s pretty pissed, isn’t he?” Madelyn asks next.

“That is putting it mildly.” Danse answers with a shrug and wonders if she is ready to talk, at least to him. “What happened, Madelyn?”

Her expression lights up for a moment at her name and Danse can understand her surprise—he doesn’t always use it. It is usually _Knight_ , and if he is feeling friendly he’ll use the nickname _Mads_. She looks at him for a long moment, fingers twisting in her lap as she contemplates answering him. Danse won’t pressure her and he hopes she knows this.

“I found my son.” Her voice is so quiet that Danse has to lean forward to hear her correctly. “I found Shaun.”

He swallows hard, understanding that by her tone it is not _good_ news. “Is he…?” Danse can’t form the word, can’t ask her if the infant son she’s been searching for long before she met him is dead.

“He’s not dead—” she sucks in a breath and steadies herself as she begins to explain. “He’s not a baby anymore. He’s not a child. He’s sixty and—” Madelyn digs her nails into the pillow and her eyes snap away when Danse knits his brows together in confusion. “The Institute kidnaped him as an infant. I _saw_ that. Raised him… _brainwashed_ him.”

“Sixty years later he’s now _leading_ them.” Madelyn shakes her head in her own disbelief. “My son— _Shaun_ —he’s the head of the Institute. I’m only free from the Vault and alive because he wanted me to find him.”

His heart is aching for her and the pain she undoubtedly feels over all that she has uncovered in one day. Danse hesitates before reaching over to take one of her hands, offering a small gesture of support. Madelyn squeezes his fingers tight in her own as if to ground herself to the present moment.

“What will you do?” Danse shifts closer but Madelyn won’t raise her head to look at him. “Maxon has expressed his doubt about your loyalties before and with this information—”

Madelyn finally glances up at him and he wants to take back his words at the anger in her eyes. She pulls her hand from his grip but makes no effort to shuffle away. “If Maxon doesn’t trust me anymore that’s fine.” Her teeth clench together as her voice drops. “But he needs to understand that the Institute doesn’t need me to destroy the Brotherhood or infiltrate the Commonwealth.”

“Did they threaten us?” Danse asks.

Madelyn shakes her head. “Not directly. They want me as a pawn but I _won’t_ —they can believe that I’m there to help…” She lets out a long breath before steeling herself. “The Brotherhood needs me. Maxon needs me— _you_ need me.” She eyes him carefully. “If you want to win your war against the Institute.”

Danse doesn’t know if he should ask but the question nags in his brain until he can’t help himself from blurting it out. “And what about your son? Don’t you care what happens to him?”

“ _Don’t_.” Madelyn threatens. She tosses the pillow from her arms and moves to push herself off the bed but Danse stops her. She struggles against him for a moment and he feels guilt wash over him as he notes fresh tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “He’s not—”

Madelyn slumps against him and she stops fighting to get up and Danse catches her in his arms much like he did earlier that day. The tears come much faster than before, and her hands clench the front of his uniform tightly as she cries. At first Danse is startled and ashamed for causing her more grief than necessary but knows it is now time to make up for his mistakes and offer her the support she deserves. He slowly wraps his arms around her—lose enough as to not overwhelm her but enough so she knows he is there and she can rely on him if she wishes.

“I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost my husband and now I’ve lost my son.” Her voice is so soft between broken sobs and she nestles her head into the curve of his shoulder to muffle the sounds. “I’ve lost everyone I ever cared about and I’m just—”

Danse slides one of his hands down the length of her spine and waits patiently for Madelyn to let out all her frustration in words and tears. Several minutes pass between them and he continues to hold her close, rubbing soothing circles with his hand along her back. He is just about to rest his head against hers when she sighs.

“I don’t care what happens to me anymore.”

“I do.” Danse responds immediately, pulling her away so he can try and look at her but she wont look up. There is a small tremble in his fingers as he moves one of his hands to tilt her chin up, and brushes his thumb across her cheek to wipe away her tears. “ _I_ care.”

Madelyn’s eyes shine with something that isn’t sadness—it is more than the surprise she had earlier at her name but it doesn’t disappear. The longer she looks at him, her gaze locked with his, the more vibrant and alive they seem and he is breath taken. Danse can feel his heart racing in his chest but he can’t quite explain _why._ Decorum says that he should move away, that he should never have come back to his room and yet he doesn’t move. A not so small part of him wants Madelyn to be _closer_. She’s kissed him before in teasing and he lets her get away with it because it seems to be out of fun and nothing serious. Right now he wishes she would kiss him again—or maybe he wants to kiss her—and _mean it_.

It is a new emotion and Danse isn’t sure if the time is right for him to be contemplating what the feelings for Madelyn might be beyond friendship. She is still looking at him with a softness in her eyes that is making it hard to concentrate. Her tears have subsided and in place a small curved smile rests on her lips. He wants to kiss her. He wants to make sure that smile never fades away. But he falters and leans away from her with a small frown.

“I’ll take your bunk for the night and you can stay here.” Danse pulls further away from her despite that Madelyn’s smile is fading. “I’m sure no one will mind given the circumstances.”

He is about to stand up when Madelyn tugs on his arms to keep him right where he is. She doesn’t take her hands away until she’s sure he won’t make a run for the door and leave. “I want you to stay with me.”

Danse blinks, not believing, not understanding what she has just said. “What?”

“Stay with me. Please.” She flashes a tiny grin. “I don’t ask a lot of you—”

“You do.” Danse is unable to hold back from teasing her even as his heart begins to race again, hoping to lighten the mood and take away the awkward tension from the air. “You ask a lot of me all the time.”

Madelyn’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What?”

“I’m…teasing you, Mads.” Danse speaks in a softer tone and after a moment she lets out a small laugh before playfully shoving at his chest.

“I changed my mind, you can leave!” She was almost giggling now. “Who knew you were able to do such a thing?”

“I’m full of surprises.” Danse replies. Madelyn grins and he notes the faintest hint of a blush dusting her cheeks.

She wordlessly settles back into the bed as he stands up but he doesn’t go far. He grabs a change of clothes from a nearby locker—something more comfortable than a Brotherhood uniform—to sleep in before changing in the adjacent bathroom. By the time Danse enters the main room again Madelyn has situated herself beneath the blankets and is on her side facing away from him. He turns off the lights, following the glow of her Pip-Boy back to the bed before steadying his breathing. He’s never shared this bed with anyone, never had somebody spend the whole night with him. Madelyn isn’t just _anyone_ —he doesn’t want to compare her to the one-night-stands of his past but he also doesn’t want this to be a one-night affair. He thinks that if it is, he will have to remember every detail.

Danse slowly eases into the bed, stretching out on his back before realizing that the two of them fill up the mattress and there is little space between them, even with Madelyn on her side. He rests his arms over his chest and he can feel the erratic thumping of his heartbeat beneath his fingertips. He turns his head to look at the back of her head and sees that Madelyn’s curls have fallen away to expose the side of her neck and the temptation to kiss her, to touch her increases. Just as he is about to reach out for her she moves, rolling over to face him. She leans her head against his bicep and her hand comes to rest on his forearm before she is looking at him with the same expectant look as before.

“Is this okay?” She asks in a whisper and Danse nods once, placing his free hand over hers.

He lets out a deep breath and thinks that he might be able to sleep through the night for once. “Goodnight, Madelyn.”

She shifts against him and Danse peeks open his eyes just in time to find her leaning over him, the brightness of her blue eyes easy to see even in the dim light. He scans her expression, gaze dipping to her lips before meeting her eyes again. Madelyn hesitates, something she never does, and Danse finds the will to move his hand to cup the side of her face, fingers brushing through dark blonde curls at the base of her head. It is only then that she dips her head down and Danse doesn’t close his eyes until her lips meet his. Her kiss is soft and she lingers—this isn’t her teasing him. When she does pull away her gaze has softened and he is sure he looks just as lost.

Madelyn places one final peck to his bottom lip before smiling. “Goodnight, Danse.”

When she moves back to original position Danse adjusts his body so she can lie comfortably against him, her head tucked under his chin against his chest. He wraps his arms around her and soon enough her breathing evens out and she is asleep in his embrace. Right away he knows he will soon join her in slumber and can’t believe how comfortable he is, how _right_ it feels to have Madelyn there. It is selfish of him but Danse thinks it might be okay to be greedy for this one thing, especially if it makes him _happy_. He reminds himself as he falls asleep to ask her to stay again tomorrow night.

He hopes she’ll say yes.


End file.
